


I Close My Eyes, Just Can't Sleep

by ladyames



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyames/pseuds/ladyames
Summary: Wade would really like to be drunk right now.  So would Cable.  Things don't stay that way.





	I Close My Eyes, Just Can't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Despite the fact that I'm sure this is not an original idea, this now exists. Enjoy!
> 
> Title from the Queens of the Stone Age song _Long Slow Goodbye_.

Ya know, some days Wade really really hates this healing factor bullshit. It's not even the fact that he can't die this time. Nope. The problem is it makes it really really difficult to get drunk. Well, technically he gets drunk, but he doesn't stay drunk. And that sucks. Sucks a big ol' dick. And totally not in a good way.

Because right now would be a really great time to be drunk. Because they hadn't been able to save everyone. And by they he means X-Force. Or really just he and Domino and Cable, but who's counting? You are? Well, you can just fuck right off. Now where were we? Wade... drinking. Right!

Three giant, empty tequila bottles sit in line next to Wade on the floor. He's sitting on the floor because... he doesn't need a reason! Take that! He's totally sticking his tongue out right now, just so you know.

On the couch, next to this particular spot of floor that Wade is currently occupying, Cable sits while nursing a lukewarm beer. He's moping, just like Wade, but it's much more difficult to tell.

Wade pokes his finger through a hole in the ribcage area of his suit. "One," he mutters. He continues to count and poke at his suit.

"Will you shut the hell up?" Cable grunts at him from the couch.

Wade tugs his mask off and tosses in across the room. "Or what?"

Cable stands, sets his beer down, and looms over Wade. A not so subtle nudge with his boot sends the bottles rolling away. "Grow up, dipshit."

"Make me." A flash of an eye and Wade's sprawled on his back with Cable's boot planted on the center of his chest.

"Don't tempt me."

Oh, a staring contest! Fun!

Eventually, Wade loses and glares daggers at the bottles that have rolled under the couch. But not for long.

Cable hits the ground and rolls under Wade when his leg is knocked out from under him. They scuffle for a while, neither with the energy to do much damage. When they come to a stop, Wade leans over Cable, one hand on the floor the other around his throat. 

Eyes tracking the blood dripping from Wade's split lip, Cable smirks. "You really want to do this?"

The only answer he gets is the hand tightening around his neck. And the mouth inelegantly smashed against his.

"Fuck you." The rasp to Wade's voice is worth it, Nathan thinks.

"Maybe." Cable licks Wade's blood off his lips and slides his hands onto the back of Wade's neck. "You'll have to shut up first."

The next kiss is less of a surprise, but no less heated.

"You've got a really messed up way of coping, ya know."

That startles a rough laugh from Cable and spurs him into action. He rolls Wade onto his back, straddling his hips and removing his shirt. "You have no idea." Wade whistles in appreciation, hands going to explore.

"Show me." It comes out halfway between a plea and a demand and Cable breathes deep. That hits him in the gut like nothing has in a while.

This kiss startles a groan out of Wade and really sets things in motion.

Hands everywhere, or at least Wade's. Cable, Nate (maybe he should call him Nate or something if they're really going to do this? Pricilla maybe?) is much more deliberate and slows Wade down when he get's too grabby. And then there's the suit. Cabl-Nate is naked before Wade can wriggle out of the top part of his suit. Eventually he gives up and moves on to getting his boots and pants off. Steady hands grab his wrists (and oh man, does that metal hand, arm, torso do something for Wade) and refocus him. Whatever dregs of adrenaline he has from the fight earlier ramp up again and he looks up at Cable... Nate. Nathan meets his eyes and, oh shit, what is this? What the actual fuck?

"Wade." It's just his name and said so matter-of-factly that it's like a bullet between the eyes.

"Hurry up, Nate. You're not getting any younger."

Another laugh and Wade's glad for the return to action. They're naked and there's a hand on his dick that's not his own and his head hits the floor as he groans. "No metal dick. Disappointed."

"Shut up," Nate mumbles, lips pressed to Wade's neck. "Never had any complaints. Won't start now."

It's Nate's turn to grown when Wade wraps a hand around his cock. "Oh, cocky." That earns him bite to the ear and a twist on the next upstroke of his cock. "Cheater."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Nate disappears and the next thing Wade knows is that his dick is in Nate's mouth and holy fucking shit... It doesn't shut him up, but he does stop speaking.

\---

On the couch, Wade's feet are in Nate's lap as they stare at the television. Neither says anything as Wade drinks the last beer. A warm metal hand wraps around his ankle and Wade burps as he tosses the can onto the floor where it rolls to join the tequila bottles.

Maybe he can't stay drunk, but who needs that when there are other fun coping mechanisms? (And the healing factor totally helps out there. Give him a minute and he'll show Nate. Just... maybe a few more minutes. This is... nice. Shut up, you!)


End file.
